The rum diary
by Captain Jack Dreamer
Summary: Captain Jack Sparrow trapped on Rum runners island. What really happened all those years ago. How does Bootstrap Bill come to his sticky end?
1. Day 1

**Day 1**

Mutiny, pure mutiny. The crew pelted insults at him like a bullet hitting home. The sea seemed to be joining in, roaring, hungry for a victim.

Standing on the gang plank of his own ship, Jack Sparrow waited nervously to jump, waiting for the new Captains orders. A crew member approached him and tied his hands up with a thick piece of rope, cutting into the flesh on Jacks wrists, burning painfully.

A voice broke the silence behind him, "Well Ja-ack, how does it feel to be a lesser being?" Barbosa tormented, taking pleasure in his new found authority.

" What are you waitin' for Ja-ack? jump! Don't you want to become a land lubber, we've provided you with a kingdom to govern."

Jack hesitated, as if going to reply but stayed silent. He felt cold steel at his back, but didn't dare turn around. There was no other choice, either let the crew send him to his watery grave or be marooned, and try his chances at staying alive. The pearl tossed on the angry sea, as if waiting, waiting for Jack.

Jack spoke up for the first time, "As you're not going to stick by the rules, I think I'll leave you to Captain this bunch of misfits, you might do a good job, but I very much doubt it! " He spoke cheerily trying to keep the fear out of his voice.

Barbosa gave him an icy glare. "You're not Captain any more Jack, so my rules are what we'll be followin' "

A sharp voice rang out from across the deck, " At least give him a pistol!"

Barbosa span round, looking even more menacing than usual. "Who dares to back answer me?" he snarled.

A muttering came from the crew and a man stumbled forwards, and fell to the ground at barbosa's feet. He was stoutly built, with dark hair that came to his shoulders. On closer viewing you could tell he was middle-aged from his weather worn hands, and face partly covered by a beard and moustache. He was handsome faced, making him look younger then he truly was. His dark eyes searched the crew for someone to back him up.

"Bootstrap! What d'you think you're doin'? Whose side d'you think you're on?" the mutinous captain barked.

Bootstrap answered him, facing the deck where he still cowered.

"I'm not doing anything, just sticking by the true captain of the black pearl, Jack." his voice tailed off into silence.

Fuming, Barbosa turned on him, "You'd better watch your tongue Mr Turner, or it could be a lot worse for Jack here than marooning."

The monkey screeched on Barbosa's shoulder, jumping up and down, watching the mutiny take place.

Eyes unchanging, Jack turned to his only loyal crew member, his friend.

"Don't worry mate, I think I'd rather die trying than defeated."

As Jack said this, an argument could be heard coming from Barbosa's direction. "Someone give 'im a pistol, I want to get this idiot out o' my sight."

Bootstrap spoke up, "Barbosa, Jack can take mine." He turned to Jack.

"Its only got one shot but it'll serve its purpose." The two of them stared hard at each other for a second, as if agreeing on something.

"I'll never forget this, you know that?" William Turner nodded his head in acknowledgement.

A shout from the crows nest, made everyone's head turn,

"Land ahoy!"

An island loomed into sight, unpopulated, wild, the new governor-Jack Sparrow.

"What did I tell you Ja-ack? You get to play governor of the island, if only for a few days before you die, but still, you can't always win." Barbosa teased, with a hint of menace in his cracked voice. Jack answered back seconds later. "This won't be the last you hear of me Barbosa, I'll be back and when I do, this pistol 'll be at yur head!"

The crews mutters raised to shouts, they knew the time had come.

Jack shouted above the din, backing down the plank as he did so.

"Gentlemen, thank you for being such great hosts, but next time you see me I won't be so co-operative." and with that, Jack stepped of the plank into the waters below, not looking back, not wanting to see those dark eyes staring at him as the tides carried him to the shore.

Jack scrambled ashore and watched, broken hearted as the pearl disappeared from sight. If he ever got off that island he was going to make Barbosa pay, big time.


	2. Day 2

**Day 2**

Jack awoke just as the sky was beginning to lighten, a new day, so many possibilities. He had fallen asleep almost exactly where he had first arrived on the island, not wanting to get any further away from his precious pearl and freedom. But no, he was marooned on this island with anything but a chance of escape.

Standing up, he decided to take a look at his new surroundings. Still deep in thought he started walking, where to, he didn't know, only to realise a moment too late. Crash! The sound of glass tinkling as his head hit something hard. The ground seemed to rise up as Jack fainted.

Blackness, ultimate dark. Awaking a few moments later, he let his eyes adjust to the gloom, a square of light far above him, no way out. He stood up, only to hear the faint crackle of glass under foot, then silence. As his eyes became accustomed to the smothering darkness, he became aware of shelves, shelves upon shelves all around him. They were all filled with bottles, seeming to hold a dark coloured substance. On landing, Jack had smashed into one of these shelves, sending the bottles flying, the liquid flowing around his feet. He reached up to take one down, at the same time delving into his overcoat pocket to produce a bottle of a similar coloured liquid. Uncorking both bottles, he took a sniff of each.

Jack let out an exclamation, "Rum! I'm saved, and by the looks o' things it hasn't been here long either!" and so Jack sat down to wait, for who or what he didn't know, but they'd be back for the rum, if there was any left by the time Jack had finished with it.

"Hey, you! what do you think you're doing?" A face appeared in the square of light that was the hole opening. A tanned face with dark hair covered by a hat, female. Whoever Jack was expecting, he wasn't ready for this, but spoke up anyway.

"Waitin' for a rescuer, please, a little help here!"

The woman hesitated, taking her hat off and letting her long dark hair fall from its position under the hat. She finally spoke up.

"O.k., but put any weapons you have on the ground." She spoke in an accent, one which Jack couldn't quite place.

A few moments later he was standing amongst the palm trees surrounding the hole. He stood facing the woman, still clutching one of the bottles of rum. They stared at each other for a moment, before the lady spoke, she was only young, Jack realised, a girl.

"Who are you, what do you want?" she questioned.

"Captain Jack Sparrow of the black pearl, we raid pillage and plunder, you've probably heard of us." Jack started, lying through his teeth, hoping news of the new Captain hadn't spread this far.

"They've marooned you, haven't they?" she saw through it straight away.

Jack hesitated "Well.. maybe, they might of..., o.k. o.k. they've marooned me! You happy now?"

The girl laughed, " Join the club, we've been marooned as well."

" What do you mean 'we', there's more of you?"

"Come on, I'll introduce you, oh by the way, I'm Anamaria." the girl continued, she took Jack by the hand and led him into a clearing, gripping tightly to stop him from squirming away.

Heads turned, as Jack and Anamaria stepped into the clearing, ten of them in all, Faces young and old turned to look at Jack.

"Really, I don't need friends, I'm not a very social person," Jack muttered.

Two small children cautiously made their way to Anamaria, wary of Jack. They started questioning her in their native language. Even though Jack couldn't understand them, he knew what they were thinking. Who was this drunken stranger who had graced their presence and what was he doing here.

As Anamaria explained to them, Jack took a look round at the group. They were all working, he couldn't tell what they were making at first, but as a smell from one of the pots reached him, he realised.

"Rum, they're makin' rum!" he spoke aloud without realising.

"Well yeah, where do you think the rum in the store came from? We make it, sell it and profit from it, we're the rum runners!" Anamaria's voice came from behind him.

'Well that makes sense' Jack thought to himself.

"Do people come here to buy it?" he inquired, for if people did, then they brought transport, ships, a passage off this island for Jack.

"They can if they want, but mainly we deliver it to all the major ports. Where do you think the taverns get their rum from?.."

Jack interrupted, "Then you have transport?"

"Well obviously, how else could we transport it? fly?" she laughed, not noticing how desperate Jack was becoming.

"When're you next leaving?" he asked desperately.

"In about a weeks time, it would have been sooner, but as you drank about half of the rum in the store, it has to be delayed."

Anamaria took a step forward as if to move away, but was stopped as Jack blocked her path. He got down on his knees and begged.

"Please, please, please can I have a passage off? I have to get my ship back. Please, I'll do anything, please..." he paused, suddenly realising something.

"Wait, why are you still here? You've got a ship, you can escape!"

Anamaria sighed, "We make a lot of gold, Jack, and if we set up a business elsewhere our recipes would be stolen. At least here we have our business and a big income. I might not have much freedom, but I'm happy." she paused.

"Now, as you were saying, you want a passage off. Well, I don't know..."

Jack grabbed her skirt in desperation,

"Please, I'll do anything!"

"Well, now you come to it, we do have a shortage of rope."

Jack looked at her in puzzlement, his faced creased into a frown. Anamaria's eyes wandered over Jack, finally resting on his dreadlocks. He clutched at them in terror,

"No, please no!"

"Well, have you got hair in any other place, like your back for instance?"

Jack closed his eyes and took a deep breath before replying,

"...yeah..."

"Aaaah!" Jack screamed. He was lying on a bed of leaves, stripped to the waist, his back exposed to the evil hands of Anamaria. Next to it lay a pile of hair, which had only a moment before, been on Jacks back. It was now being swiftly carried away by the workers to be made into rope.

"Hold still, I'm almost done, it's not that painful."

She stuck the last piece of natural sticking appliance to his back, to be ripped off seconds later, bringing the last of the hair with it. Jack let out a yelp in response, breathing heavily for a few minutes afterwards.

"I'm done, you can get up!" she laughed.

"How?" he squeaked.

"I won't be able to lie on it for weeks. Of all the stupid things to do just for a passage off." Jack muttered to himself as Anamaria left him, unable to move and alone.


	3. Day 3

**Day 3**

"Come on Jack! Come and sit with us." Anamaria called.

Jack shouted back "I would if I could move" he had been lying in the same position all night, in too much pain to stand up.

"Stop being such a wuss! Come and get some breakfast, we're having Rum and roasted turtle." She replied drinking down rum as she did so.

" I think I'll pass on the turtle, but I'll take you up on the rum offer!"

Jack staggered to his feet and stumbled over to join the small party.

He sat himself down next to Anamaria, almost squashing a kid as he did so, who moved out of the way just in time, shouting and raving at him. Jack, who didn't seem to notice, took a bottle from the centre and swigged the rum down his throat. A pile of shells lay next to the bottles, giant turtle shells.

"Why keep the shells?" Jack questioned, because it seemed a pointless thing to do.

"They're very useful, because they float on water, you can make rafts out of them and suchlike." she replied.

"We eat the meat first of course" she continued.

"Of course..." he replied sarcastically, trying not to be sick.

'I have to get out of here fast, or I'm goin' to starve! I think turtle eater here has just provided me with a way off, a raft.' Ideas were building inside Jacks head.

Standing up, he made his excuses to Anamaria like she was his mother, took twenty turtle shells for 'experimenting' and swaggered off to the beach. He stopped off at the rope store on the way, he wasn't exactly stealing, it had been part of him and anyway, he was a pirate.

Reaching the beach, Jack set to work straight away, assembling the shape of a raft in the water and lashing it together with rope. After about an hours work, it was ready to sail. Before leaving, Jack made a quick stop at the rum store to retrieve his weapons which he had left there the day previous and also to stock up on 'vital supplies'. He then climbed onto the raft, pushing off from the shore. The only thing was, Jack hadn't tested it. Very soon, water started to glisten through the shells of the raft. Jack stood up, knowing it was sinking, accidentally tipping the raft as he did so, ending up floundering in the water. Glancing back at the beach, he caught sight of Anamaria watching him, in hysterics at his antics.

As the raft submerged, Jack swam back to the shore and nightmare island loomed before him again.

"Jack, just be patient, please, a few more days and the store will be complete. You'll get a passage off when we're ready." she groaned.

"Alright, alright, I'll wait!" Jack replied, trying to hide his excitement as a new idea entered his brain. Anamaria sighed, and left Jack alone with his thoughts.

"Why didn't I think of it before, I'm a pirate for goodness sake, I'll just steal her boat!"

A few minutes later, Jack rounded the bend to where the boat was anchored, to find the area quiet. He quickly boarded and was very pleased to find rum already in the hold. Checking nobody was around, Jack lifted the anchor, and rejoicing, climbed the steps to the ships wheel.

Jack smiled to himself as he ran his hands over the smooth surface, guiding the boat out of the bay. The wind seemed to come out of nowhere, lifting his dreadlocks and filling the sails to carry him far from this cursed place.

A noise from the shore made him turn to look, Anamaria, shouting and ranting. Jack just smiled and waved cheerily at her distress, it was her turn to be marooned.

The ship continued straight for a few miles, until, on the horizon, he sighted a ship. Even from here, Jack knew it was his ship, the pearl. As he watched, he saw a figure step off the gang plank, a cannon strapped to his boots, to carry him down to the murky depths of Davy Jones locker. Jack knew in that instant, that his only friend was no more.

Over the next ten years, Jack became known across the Caribbean for piracy, but even more so for his miraculous escape off the island. This story slightly changed over the years, maybe for the better, but changed none the less.

Jack stood on the mast of his ship, watching the horizon for Port Royal, his next destination. But that's another story...


End file.
